Perfect Love Casteth Out Fear
by Rogue28
Summary: A House of Tucker Endless Hiatus Story. Trip and T'Pol try to come to terms with the events of "Home" while tensions on Earth and Vulcan make things difficult. Spoilers Season 3 and 4 through "Home."
1. Prologue

Author: Rogue  
Title: Perfect Love Casteth Out Fear  
Category: Endless Summer Hiatus 2004 Challenge  
Rating: PG  
Genre: Romance/Angst  
Disclaimer: Mirror, mirror on my door, I'll fall and worship on the floor, Paramount who owns up to the sky so blue, they don't belong to me—so please don't sue!  
Spoilers: Through Season 3 and 4, up to and including "Home"  
Summary: As T'Pol and Trip try to come to terms with her marriage, tensions on both Earth and Vulcan do their part to complicate the situation on all sides.  
A/N: This includes spoilers up through "Home," meaning that everything from "Zero Hour" has been resolved, Archer is alive, and the Nazis are no longer threatening North America. However, I'm completely ignoring "Borderlands," "CS-12," and "The Augments." Sorry, Data fans. Cross-Posted at The House of Tucker.

---

**Prologue**

****

**Vulcan**

**6 March 2154****, Earth calendar**

Vulcans do not experience fear, or so they have convinced the rest of the universe. It is possible that they have even convinced themselves, but as T'Pol walked towards her husband-to-be, the emotional response to perceived danger flared, and she knew fear.

It was not a fear of Koss. He was many things T'Pol did not care for, but she was not afraid of him. She was afraid of this, the walking towards him, the marriage vows. She was afraid she was making the wrong choice, an irreversibly wrong choice.

Her feet itched to turn around, to run across the desert sands, back towards the house, back to the shuttle, to the safety of her science, of _Enterprise_, of the man watching her wedding from the window.

She turned her eyes to Koss, erasing the thoughts from her mind. Thoughts of Trip Tucker at her wedding would do her no good now, and if Koss felt her distraction, he would question her, and she did not need his questions now.

Yet she was here, standing before this man, the man who would be her only lover, yet had no comprehension of love. He would father her children and continue his work and probably would not speak to her until the time came for T'Pol to return to Vulcan and for them to do as it had been done since the time of Surak. She would go back to _Enterprise_ and continue her exploration of space with the humans and go along her daily routine, hoping illogically that when the amok time came, she would be too far out in space to answer Koss' call, and he would be forced to divorce her and find another wife. Or he would die, and she would be free again.

Koss rang the ceremonial gong, announcing his marriage to all, informing the universe that T'Pol of Vulcan belonged to him and no other man, and he alone now had the right to her. His eyes gazed down upon his wife and T'Pol saw him steal a glance towards the house where a lone figure in the window bowed his head in defeat and turned away.

Heart heavy, the fear she'd worked so carefully all her life not to feel had never been closer to the surface. Yet she turned, hiding away her emotions, and accepted the congratulations from the guests.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

---

**U.S.S. Enterprise, NX-01**

**15 March 2154******

"I have to say, T'Pol," Archer said. "I was a bit surprised when you came back a married woman."

"I was also unaware," T'Pol said, twirling the pasta around her fork. "Koss is an acceptable match for me. Considering my somewhat persona non grate status in the Vulcan High Command, I would be hard pressed to find another husband much better."

"I thought a Vulcan couple lived together for the first year of marriage," the captain continued.

T'Pol's gaze flickered from Archer's face to Tucker's and back before she returned her attention to her meal. "Koss released me from that tradition in view of my duties here. After joining Starfleet, I could not request such a sudden or lengthy leave of absence?"

"Well, I can't say I understand it, but nonetheless, congratulations," the captain said, holding up his glass. "To T'Pol and Koss. May you live happily or at least logically ever after."

"Hear, hear," Trip said quietly, letting the captain clink his glass against his own.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Captain," T'Pol said. "I will convey your congratulations to my husband."

The comm buzzed. "Bridge to Captain Archer."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair to hit the comm button. "Archer here."

"We're receiving a message from Admiral Forrest."

"I'll take it in my ready room.," he said. "I hate to disrupt our dinner, but duty calls."

Trip laid down his napkin. "It's all right. I've got things to do in engineering."

Archer dismissed his comment. "It won't take me long. Besides, you've hardly touched your dinner."

The captain was gone before Trip could protest, and the engineer sat back down, determined to tuck into his dinner as quickly as possible.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Trip couldn't help but reflect that perhaps T'Pol had been right—it was impossible for him not to develop feelings for her after what had happened between them. And then she had very logically set him aside and done like good Vulcans had done for centuries and married a Vulcan. Because in the grand scheme of things, Vulcans had no real idea of what love truly was.

So instead of mourning what he'd lost, he'd sit here, and pity them for what they'd never had, and laugh internally at the logical way he'd come to that conclusion.

All of which was good and fine until he looked up at her face, and all his resolve disappeared again.

"You have not spoken much tonight," T'Pol observed.

He offered a smile. "Just got a lot on my mind. Repair schedules, upgrading the antimatter injectors. You know."

T'Pol nodded. "If you have calculations or designs you wish me t look at, I will assist you."

"If I get anything concrete put down, I'll be sure to bring it to you," he said, rising. "I do have things to do in engineering. If you'll excuse me."

He walked out of the dining room, leaving T'Pol to stare at her meal alone. Her gaze found it's way towards the window, towards the stars flying by, wondering if she'd left hope behind her—because Vulcans did experience hope.

---

Archer was sitting at his desk when Trip entered his ready room. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Archer nodded. "You're aware of some of the tensions involving the Mars colonies."

Trip nodded. "Yeah, I've got a cousin who lives on Mars. Says that things are getting kind of rough over there."

"Earth is threatening to remove the Martian governor and impost martial law in response to several violent outbreaks recently. Several of the perpetrators have escaped in one of the faster cargo shuttles. Starfleet hopes that if we can catch them, we can avoid any type of further violence."

Trip sank down into his chair. "Are you serious?"

The captain nodded. "Unfortunately." He pulled the bottle of bourbon from his desk drawer along with two glasses. "Here."

"Thanks," Trip said. "I can't believe Earth is considering this. We haven't had an armed conflict between humans in a hundred years."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that," Archer said. "That ship of theirs has a maximum speed of Warp 1.9. We'll catch them in about twelve hours since we're so far out."

"And if they don't take kindly to being escorted back?" Trip asked.

The captain shrugged. "Then we polarize the hull plating and let Malcolm have a shot at them."

Trip clinked his glass against Archer's. "Here's to fates worse than death."

Archer pressed the comm button. "Travis, set an intercept course for that cargo ship. Warp 4."

---

Trip walked down the hallway, intending to return to his quarters and catch up on his technical journals. He nodded to two female crewmen heading for the mess hall, offered advice to the engineer repairing a burnt out EPS conduit, and almost turned around when he saw T'Pol walking out of sickbay with a padd in hand.

"Commander," he acknowledged, hoping he could scoot on by with nothing more than that simple pleasantry.

"Mr. Tucker," she said, her tone level. "We have not had a neuropressure session since we returned from Vulcan. If you like, we can resume our routine tonight."

"Ah," he said, scratching the back of his head, "T'Pol, I'm sleeping pretty well now. And it's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me. Or that I don't like spending time with you, but—"

"You do not need to explain," she said, with that twitch of her head he knew too well. "I understand. Goodnight, Commander."

He watched her walk down the hallway, wanting to run after her and apologize or something, but her back had straightened, and he could see the Vulcan exterior right itself, the woman that only he saw disappearing under the old mask that she'd come on board with.

Sighing for an indefinable loss, Trip continued his way to the lonely company of his technical journals.


	3. Chapter 2

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**Chapter 2**

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**U.S.S. Enterprise, NX-01**

**16 March 2154******

_Captain's Log_

_We're currently ten minutes from intercepting the stolen Martian vessel. We've been attempting to hail them, but there's been no answer. They're traveling at Warp 1.93, and their engines will overheat within four minutes according to Commander Tucker. I'm hoping they're going to be reasonable. I don't want to fire on my own people, because in a way, I have to wonder if that makes me less than human._

"Their engines?" Archer asked.

"They will reach critical in his minutes."

"Captain, if they don't stop, their warp engines are going to blow."

"Can we get there and transport them out?"

Trip shook his head. "Not and escape the blast. A warp core explosions could create enough subspace turbulence to rip us apart. We're too close now as it is."

"Malcolm," Archer said, leaning over the tactical station. "Can you disable their engines?"

"I can try, sir," the armoury officer replied.

"Hit it right above the exhaust manifold," Travis said. "It's right above the warp engine and it'll trigger an automatic shutdown on those old ships."

Malcolm smiled. "Direct hit. They're dropping out of warp."

"Get a security team to the airlock and bring the grappler online. We don't know what kind of a resistance we're going to meet. Trip get over there and see if you can get their warp engine online. I'll have a team of MACO's fly it back to Mars. T'Pol, go with him."

He looked out the viewport and sighed in relief. That had turned out a lot better than he'd thought.

---

"Open the door," Malcolm ordered, phase pistol out and ready.

Smoke poured through the airlock and the colonists began stumbling through. "Help, we've got wounded with plasma burns, and children in here!" He handed the child he was holding to a MACO and disappeared back inside.

"Get Phlox down here," Malcolm yelled, throwing aside his weapon and rushing inside. Trip pushed past, dodging through smoke and fleeing crew towards the engine room, handing children off to MACO's as he passed.

"You can't go in there," someone yelled. "It's full of plasma fumes, it's on fire!"

Trip swore, loudly, backing away. "How long?"

A large boom met his ears. "Not long enough!"

"Get out of here," Trip said, waving him past. "Go, come on!" He followed the people out, assisting a coughing woman out of the ship. "Is everyone out?"

"I think so," she said, moving her hand as she counted heads. "That's all of us."

Trip slammed the airlock door shut and released the umbilical. "Tucker to bridge, get us the hell away from that shuttle!"

He swept his gaze over the Mars colonists—a few men and women able to stand, most lying in the floor or slumped against walls receiving Phlox's ministrations, even a few children now being comforted by a few of the MACO's who had put down their rifles to open their arms.

He felt the ship begin to move, the intuition only an engineer could have that they weren't moving fast enough.

The intercom buzzed—"This is the captain, all hands brace yourselves!"

"Hold on," Phlox said, grabbing the side of his medical gurney to hold his patient still.

The ship rocked beneath them, sending corpsman crashing to the floor. Trip hit the wall, hard, before everything stilled.

"Get these people to Sickbay," Phlox yelled and Trip could not stop to consider the possible damage to the ship as he was pressed into service carrying the wounded.

---

"How are they?" Archer asked.

Phlox looked over his shoulder. The four colonists who had been badly burned were resting, covered in a white paste that Archer was sure he didn't want to know where it came from. "They're doing all right. Other than those burns, only have some smoke inhalation, minor scrapes and bruises. Ah, Commander Tucker, your hypospray."

"What?" Trip said, barely concealing his cough.

"Commander, you went into the ship and breathed in plasma fumes. Please sit down."

"Where are the other colonists?" Archer asked.

"Malcolm has crewmen converting Cargo Bay 1 into a temporary barracks, but most of them are in the mess hall eating," Trip said. "And they're all very appreciative of Chef's food. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy." Phlox pulled the hypo from Trip's neck. "Thanks, Doc."

"Let me see your arm as long as you're here," Phlox said, allowing Trip to roll up his sleeve and reveal a long scratch down his arm.

"What happened?" Archer asked.

"T'Pol's pet sehlat decided she liked me," Trip said.

"Sehlat?"

"Sort of a cross between a bear and a tiger. Only with fangs," Trip said. "It makes a sound like a banshee straight out of hell."

Phlox laughed. "She probably saw you as a threat. Sehlats are wonderful creatures. They may steal your hearts, but they can leave you with scratches."

"Sounds like other Vulcan women I know," Trip muttered, pulling his sleeve back down. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go help Malcolm pull the debris from the shuttle into Cargo Bay 2."

Archer frowned. "I wonder what that was about."

Phlox shrugged. "I'm sure it's nothing Captain. Oh, I'd like you to take a look at this. It came up when I was doing the brain scans of our friends here."

---

"Would you look at that?" Trip said, tracing a hand along the melted and burned edges of the destroyed shuttle.

Malcolm whistled as he ran the scanner over the hull. "Amazing we didn't lose anyone."

Tucker snorted. "We saved all the criminals to take them back. I'm sure Starfleet will be so pleased."

Malcolm frowned. "Maybe not so. I'm detecting traces of cobalt."

Trip glanced over his shoulder at the scanner. "Cobalt's not unusual."

"It is if it's dicobalt," Malcolm said. "And it is if it's in your warp injector casing."

"Seeing what's left of our grand exodus, Trip?" a voice said behind him, and Trip turned.

"Jack!" Trip crossed the bay to his cousin, opening his arms to give him a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Your friendly security officer escorted me here. You must have missed me coming out of the ship in the confusion, so naturally, I had to come say hello." Jack Tucker's lopsided smile nearly matched Trip's own.

"Jack," Trip said, his smile disappearing, his hands still on his cousin's shoulders. "What were you doing on that ship?"

Jack sighed. "I think this is a conversation we need to have with Captain Archer. I only want to have to go through this once. Trip, we're seeking asylum."

---


	4. Chapter 3

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**Chapter 3**

---

**U.S.S. Enterprise, NX-01**

**March 16, 2154******

"Captain, please believe me when I say that we're trying to live somewhere where we can say what we want," Jack Tucker said. "Look at us, Captain. You don't have criminals or people with histories of violent behavior. We're all professors and students. We have our children with us."

"I find it hard to believe that the Earth government would send us out here after you without a reason," Archer said.

"Yes," Jack said. "We're a danger to them. It's not that we ourselves are violent, but that we may through our words and our calls for a free Mars incite others to violence."

He rose, turning to examine the art on the wall of Archer's office. "Do you know why I cam to Mars, captain?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't," Archer replied.

Jack Tucker turned around. "I have a doctorate in exo-literature. My doctoral thesis was on the cross-cultural ability to change entire groups of people through one work of literature. How the words of one person could change everything. I took apart and examined why some works could possibly have this kind of charisma. Surak's teachings, the teachings of the Bible and the Koran, the Treatise on Life by Sharilin, a Tellarite. I've made a science of dissecting rhetoric and reassembling it. I came to create a new Martian literature. I know how to use rhetoric, Captain, and I wield it, both in the classroom and in public. That's why they're after us, Captain. Not because we are violent—because we dared to have an opinion and we dared to air it."

"Jack," Trip said quietly. "What did you all say?"

His cousin turned to face him. "We said, on the public airwaves, that it was time that the Martian governor stepped down and allowed a free election and that if enough rose up and insisted upon a more active part in the government it would happen," Jack said. "We're tired of Earth policies and being told what to do with no say of our own."

"Then what of the reports of violence outbreaks?" Archer demanded. "Riots? Attacking guards and police stationed there?"

"Not us," Jack said. "They're rioting because convicts are being shipped to Mars to be workers for new habitats. Unions are striking over governmental takeover of Martian industry and taxing upon exported items."

"It wounds like the precursor to the American Revolution," Archer said.

"It is a precursor to revolution," Jack said.

---

Trip banged the EPS conduit with a hydrospanner, and immediately felt guilty about the clang that resulted.

"Frustrated?" Malcolm asked.

"No," Trip said, gritting his teeth. "Why would you think that?"

"You've been stomping around the ship ever since we rescued our merry Martian bandits," Malcolm said. "Or maybe it's been since you and T'Pol returned from Vulcan."

"Don't beat around the bush, Malcolm, say what you really mean," Trip said, yanking at a wire in the conduit panel.

"You've been moping about, banging things around for days now. For heaven's sake, Commander, give it a rest."

Trip sighed. "Wish it was that easy."

"Perhaps if you went out and had some fun," Malcolm suggested.

"The last time you and I went out and had fun, we ended up in a cellar in our skivvies, tied up, and covered in really bad alcohol," Trip said. "We're not having that kind of fun ever again."

"No," Malcolm said, heartily agreeing. "I'm talking about dinner with the personable, ever-interesting Corporal Amanda Cole."

"You have got to be kidding," Trip said, fitting the cover to the conduit in place.

"What?" Malcolm said. "You know she's still interested."

"I'm not," Trip said, packing up his tool kit.

"Well, you need to stop acting like a sad puppy every time you see T'Pol. Even Hoshi and Travis have noticed."

"You want someone to double-date with you and Corporal McKenzie, don't you?" Trip said accusingly, shaking the hydrospanner at his friend.

"That is absolutely not true," Malcolm said. "I barely know McKenzie."

"Then why are you acting like a sad puppy every time you see her?" Trip came back. "Drop it, Malcolm. I mean it." Irritated, he headed back for engineering, ignoring the chuckles of the Brit behind him.

---

"Admiral—admiral!" the captain said, stopping Forrest in mid-sentence. "These people have done nothing wrong. I've seen no conclusive evidence that justifies what we're doing. I'm housing eight children in my cargo bay. Are we going to arrest them too?"

"Of course not!" Forrest said, but there was no denying the uncertain look on his face, and Archer wished he had taken this call in his ready room and not on the bridge.

"Admiral, we cannot turn these people over without further investigation. To do so would be to deny the fundamental right of innocent until proven guilty," Archer said. "Let Starfleet keep custody of them until we have a chance to figure out what's going on. If we're going to be the police of our system, running after criminals, we should investigate. We should take responsibility."

"Jon, I agree with you, but I don't have a choice. They want us to turn them over to them, and I don't like it, but they're the ones controlling our funding."

"Our funding? We're going to allow them to indiscriminately incarcerate people for our funding?" Archer said in disbelief.

"What if we handed them over to a third party," Malcolm suggested. "If we asked the Vulcans to look our for them?"

"The consulate would undoubtedly agree to assist," T'Pol remarked, stepping into the Admiral's view. "Especially with our reminder of _Enterprise_'s assistance with retrieving Ambassador V'Lar from the Mazarites."

Forrest sighed. "Jon, I'm giving you a direct order. You are to proceed with all due speed to Mars to hand over the prisoners to the military governor of Mars."

Archer swallowed the reply that would have gotten him in front of a court-martial board. "Yes, sir."

"Good. I'll see you when you report in. Starfleet out." The screen flicked off.

"Damn," Archer said. "Now we're stuck."

"Perhaps not," T'Pol said. "Ensign Mayweather, how far are we from Earth?"

"Twenty-six hours, about, Commander," Travis answered. T'Pol moved towards the captain's chair and pressed the intercom button.

"T'Pol to Commander Tucker."

"Tucker here."

"Commander, what is the status of the warp engines?"

There was a pause, and T'Pol could tell he was puzzling the odd question. "Full status. We can hold Warp 4.3 for eighteen hours."

"Commander, if we return to Earth without a proper plan, your cousin will be incarcerated. We need time to determine an alternate course of action."

"T'Pol, we just had an antimatter injector blow, and our spares are lying in cargo bay 1 being cleaned. It'll take me a day to put them back together, and another twelve hours to fix the damage to the EPS grid."

"Thank you, Commander," T'Pol said.

Archer stared at her in amazement.

"We have little time," she reminded him.

"Hoshi, are there any Vulcan ships in range?" he asked.

"The _T'Mir_ is three days away," Hoshi said. "But they're heading for Sol."

"Send them a message requesting their assistance. Explain what's going and ask if they are willing to take on passengers for a short time until we can arrange transport to Alpha Centauri for our friends here."

"It is my duty to remind you that it is a direct violation of your orders to do so," T'Pol said.

"You have a better idea?" he asked.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Of course you have a better idea."

---


	5. Chapter 4

Author: Rogue  
Title: Perfect Love Casteth Out Fear  
Rating: PG  
Genre: Romance/Angst  
Disclaimer: Mirror, mirror on my door, I'll fall and worship on the floor, Paramount who owns up to the sky so blue, they don't belong to me—so please don't sue!  
Spoilers: Through Season 3 and 4, up to and including "Home"  
Summary: As T'Pol and Trip try to come to terms with her marriage, tensions on both Earth and Vulcan do their part to complicate the situation on all sides.  
A/N: I realize there has been a whole lot of Archer in the last couple of chapters…the Mars stuff was the get Archer out of the way so we can get to the good stuff chapter. Also, this was supposed to be a Endless Hiatus Challenge, but I got carried away with the Mars stuff, and well…my plots get out of hand sometimes and just do their own thing.

---

**Chapter 4**

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**U.S.S. Enterprise, NX-01  
March 19, 2154**

---

Malcolm discharged the phaser rifle towards the wall, and Trip scowled. "I hate you, you know."

Malcolm glanced back over his shoulder. "We're doing it for your cousin."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do you think you could try to actually hit the EPS junction this time? You're getting a little too close for comfort," Trip groused.

"Sorry," Malcolm said. "We have to make it look real."

Trip glared. "I don't like this idea. They aren't criminals and they shouldn't have to look like they are. Making it look like they shot up the ship and stole a shuttlepod."

"Take it up with T'Pol," Malcolm said. "It was her idea. And unless you want to go to prison with your cousin, we better make this work." He took another shot at the wall, and the lights flickered.

"Way to go, Malcolm," Trip said. He ran a quick scan of the singed wall panel. "You just scored a direct hit to the power junction for this section."

"Are you still in a bad mood over what I said the other day?" Malcolm said.

"What?"

The Brit shrugged, raising the phase rifle up to his shoulder again. "Well, you were in a good mood until T'Pol passed through here."

"I was in a good mood before you started shooting up a deck," Trip said. He ducked as Malcolm took aim over his head. "What, you're trying to kill me now?"

"Hardly," Malcolm said, holding the weapon to his side.

"Just leave me alone," Trip said, examining the damage above his head. "I don't understand why everyone wants to talk to me about it."

"Everyone?" Malcolm said. "I thought the committee had just appointed me."

Trip didn't bother to comment on the armoury officer's remark. "You, Hoshi, the captain. Even Phlox said something to me. Although that was kind of strange."

"What did he say?"

Trip glanced up from his scanner. "Unlike the rest of you who keep telling me to get over my attitude, Phlox didn't."

Malcolm sighed. "But what did he say?"

Trip looked back down at his scanner. "Not to give up. And I don't intend to. Hit that empty plating next."

---

"Captain?" Hoshi said. "Our Martian friends report that they're ready to go."

"Everything taken care of?" Archer asked.

"Aye, sir. They have the codes to open the bay doors," Malcolm answered.

"Sir? We're getting a message from Starfleet Command," Hoshi said.

"Tell our friends to hold off launching," he said. "Put them through."

Forrest's face appeared on the viewscreen. "Jon, how far are you from home?"

"About six hours at Warp 2. Why?"

"It's hit the fan on Mars. Rebels have stolen vessels and are attempting to blockade ships trying to bring reinforcements to put down the resistance on the ground. We need you to go and disable their ships. We're already sending every short-range craft we have, but we're not faring well. _Colombia_ is too far out to be of any help. Get out here as fast as you can—we're going to need you. Starfleet out."

Silence fell over the bridge. "Set course for Mars," Archer said.

"Sir?" Travis said.

"Do it!" Archer ordered. "Have the senior staff and Jack Tucker join me in the command center. Get us going towards Mars, Warp 4.5."

---

"We have less than an hour before we reach Earth," Archer said. "I don't want to fight the Martians. I don't think they're doing anything wrong, and I have no intention of firing upon them. It is my intention to assist the Martian resistance forces from the onslaught of Earth forces, but I'm not going to do it without the unanimous support from my senior staff. If one of you disagrees, we call the whole thing off and have an antimatter injector blow, for real this time, and we let them fight it out themselves. It's up to you. Hoshi"

"Aye, sir."

"Travis?"

"Aye, sir."

"Malcolm?"

"Aye, sir."

"Phlox?"

"Aye, captain."

"Trip?"

"Damn straight, aye, sir."

"T'Pol?"

She raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, he thought she would say no. Her gaze fell upon the Tuckers, standing side by side, and for a moment more, met gazes with Trip. "Aye, Captain."

He didn't have time to wonder about her hesitation, only enough to realize that it was probably not a logical action he was about to take, and once gain, it had something to do with Trip that changed her mind. "Lieutenant Reed. Tactical alert."

---

Flashes of light from phase cannons lit up the display as the commandeered Martian ships held off the small Starfleet vessels that were attempting to break through the perimeter they'd constructed around the planet.

"Sir, we're being hailed by Starfleet command," Hoshi said.

"Send a feedback loop through their transmitters and put me through on an open band," Archer said. "If anybody wants out, now's your chance."

"You're on, Captain," Hoshi said.

"All Martian vessels, this is Captain Archer, _Enterprise_. Form up on me."

"This is a trap!" a voice answered. "A Starfleet trap!"

"This is no trap," Archer said. "I'm on your side." He lowered his voice. "Travis, move us between the Starfleet and Martian vessels."

"Captain, Starfleet is hailing us again, ordering us to stand down," Hoshi said. "I'm receiving—well, to you too!"

"Hoshi?"

She shook her head. "You don't want to know."

"Two Starfleet vessels are approaching. Sir, they're firing!" Malcolm said. The ship rocked as Malcolm spoke, nearly knocking Archer off his feet.

"Lieutenant, return fire. Disable their engines."

"Aye, sir," Malcolm said. "Direct hits. Both ships are disabled."

"This is _Enterprise_ to all Starfleet vessels. Cease fire and recall your vessels and we'll see if we can negotiate a ceasefire," Archer offered. "I've no desire to see anyone killed."

"The Martians much surrender!" a voice came back from the Starfleet side.

"Travis, keep us between them," Archer said. He raised his voice. "I've got an idea on how to make this work and make everyone happy. I've got a leader of the Martian resistance on board, and I'm proposing _Enterprise_ as a neutral territory. Or, we can do this the hard way, and we can disable all the Starfleet vessels. Seeing how I'm going to be busted back down to captaining one of those, I'd rather not."

There was no answer from either side, and Archer spoke up. "I don't see that you really have much of a choice. We can either sit here and blast one another to smithereens, or we can discuss this like reasonable beings."

"This is the commander of the Martian forces. All Martian forces disengage, but maintain alert status. Captain Archer, we are willing to negotiate."

---


	6. Chapter 5

Author: Rogue

Title: Perfect Love Casteth Out Fear

Category: Endless Summer Hiatus 2004 Challenge

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Angst

Disclaimer: Paramount, I love you, I really really do, despite what you do to my ships, with husbands out of the blue. So I'll give you the credit, to where the credit is due, and ask you very nicely, Paramount, please don't sue!  
Spoilers: Through Season 3 and 4, up to and including "Home"

Summary: As T'Pol and Trip try to come to terms with her marriage, tensions on both Earth and Vulcan do their part to complicate the situation on all sides.

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter took so long, but T'Pol, once again, is not behaving. Also, if chapters are a little slow this month, I signed up for National Novel Writing Month and am having a hand at writing 50000 words in 30 days.

---

**Chapter 4**

**---**

**U.S.S. Enterprise, NX-01**

**21 March 2154******

---

The door chimed to the Captain's ready room, and Archer looked up from his datapad. "Come in."

Trip Tucker poked his head into the captain's office. "Beware engineers bearing gifts," He showed a bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

"Kentucky bourbon!" the captain said, squinting at the label. "2134. This should be good."

"Thought I'd bring you a little pick-me-up," Trip said. "I personally have been hiding from T'Pol's attempts to drag me up there by burying myself in the warp engine."

"She didn't pull out by your ankles and make you observe protocol?" Archer said, as Trip opened the bottle.

The engineer grinned, handing the captain a glass. "She can't if she can't find me. Cheers."

"Wow," Archer said, the grimace from the bourbon fading from his face. "Good stuff."

"You see," Trip said. "All good things come from the South. I'd be willing to bet water polo originated in Florida. Anyway, I didn't avoid T'Pol all day. I did take a shift on the bridge this afternoon."

"Still avoiding negotiations at every turn," Archer observed.

"Don't want to cause a diplomatic incident," Trip said. "When my own cousin tells me to go mind the bridge instead of coming down—"

"Never mind," Archer said, unsuccessfully trying to hide his smile. "You and Malcolm and T'Pol can all take turns on the bridge for now, and you are hereby designated purveyor of alcohol."

"Hear, hear," Trip said, clinking his glass against the captain's. "How is it going? T'Pol only says you're making progress."

"After ten hours, I managed to get them both to stand down from alert status and to agree to let the Lunar One colony to join in the negotiations for their own independence. They want us to keep having the negotiations, though, but you should have seen Earth's special ambassador after the lunar colony called us. I thought I was going to have to call the MACO's in."

"How are you going to manage that?" Trip asked.

"I am open to suggestions," the captain said, rubbing his eyes.

The door chimed again, and the captain wearily looked up. "Come in."

T'Pol entered, and both men stood. "T'Pol," Archer said, gesturing to the chair Trip had not been occupying. "Won't you sit down?"

"That won't be necessary, sir," she said, handing him a datapad. "We just received a message from the Vulcan consulate. Ambassador Soval has just offered to host the negotiations on Vulcan, and to offer you whatever assistance you feel you may require."

"Really?" the captain said, taking the datapad from her. "And just what might be required of us in return?"

There went the eyebrow. "The Vulcan Science Directorate has recently opened a new biological sciences complex, which is being named in honor of the Ambassador. He has requested our assistance in conveying him there." She hesitated. "My presence has also been requested at the ceremony. My husband was the architect who designed the complex."

Archer smiled. "Well, I suppose I can do without you for a little while during the ceremony. But I thought that the _T'Mir_ was supposed to take Soval back to Vulcan."

T'Pol nodded. "That's correct, Captain. However, the one of the warp injectors on the _T'Mir _malfunctions and caused a partial cascade through their EPS grid. They estimate it will require a week to fix."

"Suppose they'd like some help?" Trip said, his voice carefully modulated. "I could help out over there."

T'Pol glanced at her feet before returning his gaze. "I doubt that Captain Storn would allow you near the engineering section of the ship."

"I think this is a great idea," Archer said. "Soval may get on my last nerve, but having him there may help since he's representing an interest outside of Earth. No offence, Commander, but being in Starfleet doesn't exactly give you the same credibility."

"No offense taken, Captain," T'Pol said. "If you will excuse me, I have calculations from the last gaseous anomaly we passed to complete."

"Certainly," Archer said, and T'Pol turned and left. Archer sat back down, but not without hearing the low sigh Trip let loose.

"Trip? You all right?" he asked.

Trip looked up from where he was intently studying the bottom of his glass. "Oh, I'm fine. I should really get going. I forgot about the study she was doing on that anomaly, and if I don't finish my report on the effect it had on the warp nacelles, I'll be scrubbing bulkheads for a week. If you'll excuse me, Captain?"

Archer nodded, and Trip set his glass down before hurrying out the door, leaving the captain to wonder at the strange behavior of his crew.

---

**22 March 2154******

---

Soval stepped onboard _Enterprise_, his hands folded into the sleeves of his cloak. Trip attempted to smile, and as a courtesy, held his hand up in the traditional greeting. "Live long and prosper, Ambassador."

He made a mental note to thank T'Pol later when he saw the surprise flicker across Soval's face as the ambassador raised his hand in turn. "Peace and long life, Commander Tucker." The ambassador hesitated, before then extending his hand to Trip, and the engineer felt the surprise fall across his own face as he shook hands with the Vulcan.

"If you'll come this way, sir," Trip said. "The captain asked me to apologize for not being here, but he's trying to get the Mars and Earth ambassadors to agree on the Lunar Colony representative. We've prepared quarters for you and your aide this way. Chef is even making plomeek soup for dinner, and T'Pol has put meditation candles in your quarters for your use."

"I will look forward to it, Commander," Soval said. "Will Captain Archer be joining us for dinner?"

"That's the plan so far," Trip said. "Unless the negotiations take a particularly bad turn, I think he should be able to. Oh, look out, they're working on the EPS grid here," he said, moving around the crew who stood at attention as the ambassador passed by.

"You have learned much of Vulcan culture, Commander Tucker," Soval said. "I must admit, I am surprised."

Trip paused before choosing not to irritate the ambassador, for T'Pol's sake at least. "What's the good of being out here if you don't learn anything?"

Soval's eyebrow raised. "A surprisingly logical statement from a human."

Trip gritted his teeth. "Here we are, Ambassador. If you need anything, there will be a steward at your disposal. If you'll pardon me, I've got to get back to engineering."

"Of course, Commander," Soval said, opening the door to his quarters, and Trip allowed himself one smirk as he turned around to head for engineering, as he'd caught the ambassador's minute expression of disgust at the human smell of the quarters.

---

The door to her quarters chimed, and T'Pol rose from her desk. "Come in."

Trip stepped in, looking more nervous entering her quarters than he had before they had begun their neuropressure sessions. "Hey. I just wanted to bring these to you. My report on the nacelles. Sorry it's late."

"No need to apologize, Commander," T'Pol said, studying the figures on the datapad. "We have been quite busy as of late."

"No kidding," Trip muttered. T'Pol had made no move to dismiss him, and even though he knew that he should make an exit, gracefully or not, something made his rebellious feet stay stuck firmly too the floor. "I thought the dinner went pretty well."

T'Pol looked up. "Considering that the Earth special ambassador publicly insulted Ambassador Soval, it went quite well."

"Well, the captain squashed that pretty quick," Trip said, leaning against the locker, and T'Pol looked away, reminded of him in that particular posture too many times. "And he didn't try it again. And Soval didn't look too pissed off."

"One can only be insulted where emotion is present," T'Pol said, and an awkward silence fell over the room. "My mother asked about you."

Trip smiled, staring at the ground. "Your mom's a classy lady."

"She was most impressed with your engineering skills," T'Pol said. "She has said that she wished you had time to look at her lighting system before you left Vulcan."

"If she likes, I can see if I can take a look at it when we get to Vulcan," Trip said, letting his eyes flicker to the stars streaming by as they moved through space.

"I am sure she will appreciate it," T'Pol said quietly.

The silence fell once again, and as Trip cast about for a remark, he could not stop himself. His mother had once said that he lacked a filter between his brain and his mouth that kept him out of trouble, and while he had protested at the time, he had found that his mother was quite right. "Are you excited about seeing Koss again?"

The words flew from his mouth and he immediately wished his mother was there to smack him on the upside of the head, just to make himself feel better about having said something so bluntly. _You could have at least made a graceful segue into that, Tucker._

"Not exactly," T'Pol answered. Figuring he had already fit half his foot in his mouth, he decided to go for broke.

"What's happened to us?" he said. "We can't even have a normal conversation anymore."

"I am unaware of what you speak," T'Pol said, and he moved behind her, gently turning her around to face him.

"I don't want to make your life hell," he said softly. "I just want you to be happy."

The memory of Koss' words to her ran through her head, and T'Pol could not look at him. "I did not desire this outcome."

"Why didn't you fight it?" he asked, his voice catching in his throat.

"It is complicated to explain," she said, looking up at him.

"I'm listening."

He didn't have to, as T'Pol rose up on her toes, her lips meeting his, and his arms found their way around her waist. Nothing had ever felt so right.

Or so wrong.

He pulled away, closing his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. "We can't do this."

He felt her take a breath, and he let himself hold on to her for a breath more, savoring this moment, etching it into his memory. "I know," she whispered. She straightened, moved out of his arms. "Thank you for the report."

Nodding, he turned, and left her to her calculations.

---


End file.
